The White Queen
by mabelreid
Summary: This takes place right after "God Complex" He's watching them closer than they think. He's playing a deadly game with Reid and his mysterious woman on the phone, and he wants to win, at any cost, even if he must sacrifice his White Queen.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n this one shot is set between "God Complex and "The Wheels on the Bus. _**

She switched on the small, black, portable radio she kept on her bedside table and dialed through the channels until she found a station that played good classical music. She couldn't sleep. It was Sunday night and Spencer hadn't called.

_Why didn't the phone ring? _

She pulled down the bed covers and slipped inside. She shivered despite the heat pushing in from the register. The cold wasn't an external chill. This cold was the kind that came from the depths of a lonely heart.

A tear tracked its way down her face as she stared at the green digital numbers on her radio's clock. She'd really screwed up. If only she'd thought before giving voice to - oh, she couldn't think of it.

Her face burned and she swiped at her eyes. She should have had more control. The last six months were the happiest of her life because she had someone to talk that was kind, and sweet and gentle. She had a friend, someone that was patient with all the restrictions she put on that friendship, even when tested to the limits of endurance.

She turned to her back and stared up at a ceiling she couldn't see over her head.

_I should've stayed quiet. _

She swiped at her eyes again. The words had popped out without coherent thought. He was so sweet and patient. All he wanted from her was more than one call per week.

_Maybe that's why you blurted out that you love him. _

No, she refused to believe that she was making some kind of hail-Mary plea.

_It's true… You heard the irritation in his voice, even if he tried to hide it. You wanted him to forget. _

She flipped over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. Tears soaked the white pillowcase, but she ceased to feel it as she fell into sleep.

_CMCMCMCM_

The ringing of the phone bored through her dream of eyes she'd never seen. She fumbled for her cell phone, and almost knocked it off the nightstand.

"Spencer," she cried without conscious thought.

The silence on the other end would have been absolute except for harsh breathing that she recognized.

"_What?"_

She flinched at the soft question in her ear. The hair stood up on the back of her neck and she almost dropped the phone. Her hands began to sweat and her heart began to race.

"_Who is Spencer?"_

She swallowed hard. "Um, he's a patient. I was sleeping. I mean, I fell asleep looking at a file and I guess I must've been dreaming."

"_You were dreaming."_

He was so calm, that she began to shake. _Help me, Spencer._

"I d-don't know, I g-guess s-so."

Her voice shook so hard, she could hardly speak. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"_I'm glad because I wouldn't want to think that someone else is in your life, my sweet." _

"Of c-course not, I'm s-sorry."

"_I know you are. You remember very well what happens when you don't do as you're told." _

Tears began rolling down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away.

"_Now, go back to sleep and dream of me," _he whispered.

"I p-promise."

He clicked off and she let her phone fall into her lap. She put her face into her hands and began to sob.

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He left his cell phone on his worktable and picked up his latest pile of photographs. He couldn't help but smile with delight when he reached the middle of the stack and found his most recent close-up of Dr. Spencer Reid. It amused him that she thought she was fooling him. He'd been angry when he discovered that she was talking to Dr. Reid on a weekly basis, but then he realized that he could use that to his advantage. Still, he would have to punish her for her defiance when his plans were complete.

He held the close-up and studied Dr. Reid. She had developed feelings for him and he couldn't understand why. He had full dossiers on all of this BAU team, but Dr. Reid remained a mystery to him. He was a genius that had killed more than once in the line of duty. He was also a drug addict with a schizophrenic mother in an institution. He had no experience with a real relationship, and yet the good doctor had managed to make his lovely lady defiant to _his_ rules and _his_ will.

He put the photograph on the table and slammed a fist down over Dr. Reid's face. The pain of the blow reminded him that he couldn't lose control. If he lost control, then he'd lose the war. Every other foe, which battled with this BAU team, lost because they made mistakes. He wouldn't make the same mistakes they did and in the end, he'd beat SAC Aaron Hotchner and his merry band of profilers at their own game.

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He waited in the yellow glow of the street light that fell over the phone booth like a stage spotlight. He looked around, and tried not to feel like someone was watching him. The phone didn't ring for ten minutes and he almost left. She'd never taken this long to call him back. He looked at his watch and realized that it was very late. Maybe she was sleeping.

The phone finally rang and he jumped as though goosed in the backside. "Hello."

"_Spencer?"_

"What's wrong?"

"_I can't talk to you anymore." _

Ice water took place of the blood in his veins. He gasped in a huge lungful of cold air and clung to the phone so hard his hand ached.

"No."

"_Spencer, I made a terrible mistake."_

"Tell me what happened?"

"_Spencer, please, I don't want to do this, but I think he might know."_

The ice water in his veins collected in his heart and his chest hurt. He tried to slow his breathing, but none thing he did helped.

"Tell me where you are. I'll come get you now. I'll take you somewhere safe. I have this cabin and -"

"_You can't," she interrupted. "I don't know if he knows, or if he believed me. I think it might be okay, but I'm not sure. I just think we shouldn't talk until I know for sure."_

"No."

"_Spencer…" _

"No, I won't walk away. If I do, I'll never talk to you again. I won't lose what we have. If I've put too many demands on you, I'm sorry. I promise I'll -"

"_This isn't about you wanting to talk more than once a week,"_ she shouted over him. _"I thought you weren't going to call this week. I was beating myself up because of what I said to you the last time we talked."_

"I -"

"_I don't know what happened except that somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. You don't have to say it." _

"But I -"

"_I can't let him hurt you. I'll die first." _

"Please don't say that," he squeaked.

"_I can't help it. I don't want to live without you." _

"I care about you too," he said softly.

There was silence on the line. He should have said that he loved her, but he couldn't make his lips say the words. What if he said them and something happened to her? What if he said them, hung up, and never talked to her again?

"_You don't have to say it."_

He could barely hear her over her tears. He couldn't think of the right thing to say. His brain had thousands of words he could say, but nothing to string together that would help.

"I said it because I mean it. Please let me help you."

"_I can't, he'll hurt you."_

"What did he say?"

He listened as she told him everything from the time she turned on her radio. "I'm not going to walk away," he reiterated firmly. "If he didn't believe you, then we'll deal with it. Until then, I _will_ call you next week."

"_I'll hold you to it," _she said shakily. _"I don't know how I got through every day before I met you. I need you, Spencer." _

"I need you too. Remember, I gave you a cell phone number. You said you memorized it."

"_Yes, but, Spencer…"_

"I told you if you need me, you call me."

"_I can't -" _

"Yes, you can. I don't care about what happens to me. I _will_ not let him dictate our relationship or hurt you."

"_Spencer…"_

"I'm going to call you next week. Don't ignore me, please."

She sighed. "I won't ignore your call."

"Look, from what you told me, I think he believed your story about the dream. Let's not panic yet."

"_You really think so?"_

_No he didn't think so, but he couldn't say it. _"Yes, my professional opinion as a profiler is that he wants to scare you, but that's all. Don't let him."

"_I'll try." _

He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he couldn't say it.

"I'll talk to you next week."

"_Alright." _

He hung up after she didn't say she loved him again. Why couldn't he say the important things? Why did he let her go on this way? How could he leave her in such danger?

He reached out for the phone again, but let his fingers drop off the black surface of the receiver. He pulled his cell from his pocket and almost pushed the speed dial for Garcia. He should call her and do what he should have done months ago. Garcia could find her. It would be easy.

He shoved the phone in his bag and left the phone booth with hunched shoulders and a bowed head.

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He watched Dr. Reid leave the phone booth and smiled. Convincing her that he believed her lies only enhanced his control over her. Now she'd never be sure that she was safe to talk to this Dr. Reid. Now her profiler knew, and he'd never feel safe talking to her again. How long would it be, before one of them snapped and tried to escape? He smiled again because it didn't matter. Soon the game would move to the next level, and like the chess masters of old, he'd spring the perfect trap for all of them. He couldn't wait to see if the white queen would be saved or would she be sacrificed.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n some of you asked for more to this story, so I'm putting it back on unfinished. I was also inspired by the last episode. There may be even more if the muse allows and if the episodes continue to inspire me. Thank you for all your reviews, and thanks to all who follow the story and have added it to their favorites. _**

He hadn't expected to feel this way when he returned to his lonely, little apartment. In truth, he'd expected to feel rejection and disappointment over ruining what he considered the best relationship he'd had, thus far. He'd expected to feel like a fool for believing that a woman could find him attractive. The only emotion he felt now was a deep sense of embarrassment and irritation with his reaction to the man in the restaurant. All he wanted was to go back and do it all again.

He flipped on the living area light, and pulled his messenger bag over his head. He stood by his battered old sofa and laid two books side by side on his scratched and pitted coffee table. They were the same when seen from the outside, but one of them represented hope, something he thought might be gone after Maeve saw him for the first time.

He sat, studied the cover of the book she'd left for him and opened it again. He flipped to the page she'd inscribed - even though he'd memorized the words - and stared at them.

"Love is our true destiny. We don't find the meaning of life alone - we find it with another."

He touched the words with one fingertip, and traced them as though he might find something more of Maeve in them. When he realized that he was analyzing her handwriting and trying to figure out her true motives, he slammed the book shut.

He stood up, grabbed his bag and hurried back out of the apartment. The December night wasn't as cold as he thought, but he still huddled in his coat like a child trying to stay warm during winter play. He began to walk, even though it was getting late.

Self-doubt and anger swallowed hope, as he walked past other people and felt the rushing wind of passing cars on the street. Was he so afraid of meeting her that he saw her stalker in every passing face? How could he make the mistake of thinking that man in the restaurant was the one that threatened the girl he loved?

He stopped, stared at the concrete sidewalk, and smiled in the dark. Is this what it means to love someone? If it meant that his profiling skills took a serious hit and his ability to read people became so skewed, he didn't know if he liked it.

His phone beeped and he started. He pulled it out of his pocket with shaking fingers and sighed with relief at the text message.

_I told you, she'd love you. _

He texted back to Alex: We never met.

His phone beeped again: _Why?_

He replied: I can't talk about it.

There was a long pause and then another message appeared: _Did she stand you up?_

He almost smiled: No, she came to the restaurant, but I never saw her.

She typed: _I don't understand. _

He thought for a long time and then responded: If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone or judge my decisions up to this point.

She replied immediately: _You know I won't, Reid._

He realized he was standing in a small park, so he found a bench under a street lamp and answered: I'm going to call you, if that's okay.

She answered: _its fine._

He pushed a speed dial button and Alex answered immediately. _"Okay, Reid, what's going on?"_

"She has a stalker."

"_Wait, Reid, a stalker," _Alex interrupted as her voice climbed an octave.

"You promised you wouldn't judge."

"_But a stalker, Reid." _

"I know, but right before this case she said he'd gone away. Two weeks have passed since the last contact and before that, she was getting calls, hang-ups, heavy breathing on her machine and emails. She said she could go out without disguises and nothing happened. We decided to meet."

"_What happened next?"_

"I got to the restaurant first and while I was waiting I saw this guy in another booth staring at me."

He stopped because talking about it with some distance didn't help him get over the fact that he'd completely over reacted.

"_You thought he was the stalker and over reacted." _

"I can't believe I saw what wasn't there. It just goes to prove that emotions cloud judgment."

"_What emotions?"_

"You know what I mean."

"_I think you'll feel better if you say it out loud, Spencer." _

"Alex, please," he begged.

"_Alright, I'm sorry. Look, you have to face the fact that you projected something onto a total stranger because you were afraid."_

"But, how do I know it's safe. What if this guy is still out there? What if I decide to ignore my instincts and something happens to her? You wanted me to say it, so I'll say it, I care about her."

"_You're going to have to find your own way through it, Reid. Love is different things to different people. Don't let it rule you, but don't let it frighten you, either." _

"How do I do that?"

"_By thinking about what's best for her. Love means you put the other person first." _

"I'm not sure I know how to do that."

"_You'll figure it out. I suspect you already have. I'll bet you got on the phone to her and warned her away, even though you wanted to see her. You've wanted it since the moment you met." _

"Yes," he breathed out. "I wanted to meet her."

He laughed and Alex said, _"What's funny?"_

"I decided to give her a gift. It's a copy of "The Narrative of John Smith."

"_Oh, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."_

"You know it?"

"Yes, it's a great book."

"Well, when I called her she was outside the restaurant, but she came in and gave a gift for me to the hostess. It was a copy of the same book with an inscription."

"_That proves what I know, you have something special." _

"I'm scared, Alex."

She laughed. _"Of course you are; everyone gets scared by love. Just try not to see a stalker in every man you pass on the street. It's okay to be vigilant, but don't panic." _

"What do I do if he reappears?"

She sighed and suddenly the air around him seemed to go to ice in a minute. He looked up to see a man walking toward him with his head down. In the black of the night, he looked like a shadow that had abandoned its human.

"I gotta go, Alex."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

He shoved his phone into his pocket and jumped to his feet. The man passed under the light and looked up at Reid. He smiled and tipped his hat like a gentleman of old. He looked about seventy. "You should get in out of the cold young fellow."

Reid nodded and watched the man continue into the night with a heart that wouldn't stop pounding. He had to stop freaking out or he'd never meet Maeve.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it for a long time. He should call her and tell her about his mistake. She'd probably be mad, but if he didn't call her then she'd think the stalker was back. He couldn't do that to her. Even if she never wanted to see him again, he had to tell her.

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The man sat back in his car and turned off the directional microphone he'd set up to listen into Dr. Reid's conversations. So far, the evening had been the best of his life thus far. It was so amusing the control he exerted over the lovely Maeve and Dr. Reid.

It was sheer genius to make her think she was safe, even if it was difficult not to contact her on a daily basis. He had to be content with watching her from afar and eavesdropping.

Poor Dr. Reid; he'd almost have sympathy for the FBI agent if he didn't despise him for daring to think he could have Maeve. It was so delightful to see how paranoia turned the good doctor into a nervous wreck. How wonderful that their fateful first meeting was interrupted by Dr. Reid's over active imagination. It was going so much better than he hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**a/n this chapter is in part inspired by a promo I saw, and by a poem from Shelly called "I arise from dreams of Thee." Rather than be a reaction to episodes, as they last two chapters have been, this is something I imagine to happen right before the next episode. **_

_**I arise from dream of Thee**_

_**Percy Bysshe Shelly**_

_**I arise from dreams of thee**_

_**In the first sweet sleep of night **_

_**When the winds are breathing low**_

_**And the stars are shining bright.**_

_**I arise from dreams of thee **_

_**And a spirit in my feet**_

_**Has led me - who knows how? -**_

_**To thy chamber window, sweet. **_

_**The wandering airs, they faint**_

_**On the dark, the silent stream,**_

_**The champak odors fall **_

_**Like sweet thoughts in a dream.**_

_**The nightingale's complaint,**_

_**It dies upon her breast,**_

_**As I must die on thine,**_

_**Oh, beloved as thou art. **_

_**Oh, lift me from the grass!**_

_**I die, I faint, I fail! **_

_**Let thy love in kisses rain**_

_**On my lips and eye-lids pale;**_

_**My cheek is cold and white, alas,**_

_**My heart beats loud and fast.**_

_**Oh, press it close to thine again**_

_**Where it will break at last. **_

Something unheard by his conscious mind, or felt in his heart, woke him from dreams of walking hand in hand with Maeve down a city street that seemed to go on forever. The lingering image of golden sunlight on her hair and the love in her eyes made him smile. He tried to force sleep back, so he could continue the dream, but his eyes opened against his will.

His bedroom was still, middle of the night, dark but he resisted the urge to turn over and look at the clock. He sat up, and walked to the window. He lifted the shade and pressed his hand against the pane. He hissed at the icy cold and shivered. He saw that the snow had finally stopped and so he turned and went out to his living room instead of back to bed. Something pulled him along as if he walked on a moving walkway. He stopped at his front door, put his hand on the doorknob and opened it.

He found that he stood in front of a small cottage that reminded him of something out of a book he once read. Sunlight burst around the peaked roof and shined down on him. He also realized that he was fully clothed instead of wearing pajamas. It seemed the dream had not ended. He smiled and hurried to the door made from roughly hewn wood that he did not recognize. It had a small window, shaped like the arch of a bridge, with stained glass depicting one scarlet rose in full bloom.

A humming bird buzzed playfully around his head, then zoomed off to a yellow honey suckle flower that was one of many outlining the tiny edifice. He knocked on the door and the sound echoed a little as if from a long distance. He looked around and noticed a ladybug climbing the door to the glass in the window. The insect suddenly took off and flew past him. He turned to watch it go and saw that a white painted fence with a gate he had not noticed before was behind him under the shade of huge weeping willow trees. Green grass grew everywhere, as did flowers of every brilliant color and hue.

The door opened and he saw her. She was exactly as he always imagined her in his dreams. Her chestnut hair hung in waves down her back to her waist. Her blue green eyes twinkled like stars. His fingers itched to touch her roses and cream skin. Her lips, pink like conch shells on the beach turned up in a welcoming smile, and her lithe body dressed in a long white gown of lace, sent his heart racing. He noticed she wore a circle of gold on her head like the crown of some princess from ancient times, but did not wonder about it, as it seemed right for her. His mouth answered her smile with one of his own and he stepped across the threshold to meet her.

"Spencer," she said in her familiar, honey tones. "I've been waiting for you for so long."

She led him in to a tiny living area with furniture made from heavy wood that matched the door and the rest of the cottage. They boasted cushions made from some velvety material in scarlet, gold and deep sapphire blue. A fire blazed in the grate, but the room was as cool as an evening in autumn. It was dark, though as though night had suddenly fallen the minute he had crossed the threshold. All the windows had shutters against the light from the sun.

He looked at her inquiringly and saw that she had an old-fashioned hurricane lamp in one of her hands.

"Follow me, Spencer. I've been waiting for you for such a long time."

"Where are we going?"

She crooked a finger at him and smiled. "Don't talk, Spencer. Come with me."

He followed her down a narrow hallway to another door. The scent of roses overwhelmed him as he entered the room behind her. Directly in front of him stood enormous four-poster bed made from the same wood as the rest of the furniture in the house. The linens were snow white, as were the lacy curtains that hung around the bed. Another fire burned in the grate to his left, and it threw shadows over the stone floor and the walls.

"Maeve…"

"Shh…"

She took his hand and he flinched at the coolness of her skin. She pulled him over to the bed.

"Don't you think we've gone beyond the talking stage?"

"I think we should go back out to the living room and -"

"Talk more?" Maeve asked. "I don't think so. I've been waiting for so long. I want you to touch me."

Her skin was like silk and she smelled like lilacs. He breathed it in and closed his eyes.

"Kiss me, Spencer."

He opened his eyes and Maeve sat on the edge of the bed.

"This isn't like you."

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "I love you, Spencer. He's gone and can't hurt us anymore. Please, don't walk away from me now."

He sat next to her and pulled her into his arms. Something dropped a curtain over his eyes and his hands turned to talons on her shoulders. He squeezed so hard she whimpered in protest and tried to pull away from him. The fire popped and he smirked at her. Her eyes went wide and her flirtatious smile vanished.

"Spencer?"

He yanked her back when she tried to jump off the bed. "Oh no, you said you wanted me."

His hands ripped her dress and yanked it down to her waist. The hissing rip of the fabric made him smile widely. "You thought you got rid of me, but I was always there."

"No, you're not him."

He grabbed one of her heaving breasts and she began to scream. "You're such a stupid little bitch. Did you think I'd let you go?"

"Spencer, please…"

He pushed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her. "I'll show you what happens to dirty girls that don't do what they're told."

"NO!"

"It's too late to say no."

He wrapped both hands around her neck and squeezed. "I'm going to kill you."

"No," she gasped as her face began to turn red.

He held her down as she struggled under him. Her body jerked and bucked. It seemed to go on forever, as tears rolled down her cheeks, and her hands beat at his arms. He squeezed until she went still and her arms fell to her sides.

"Told you I would show you," he gasped and rolled off her.

The grayness over his eyes pulled back and he gave voice to the screams that had echoed in his head since his hands had encircled her slender throat.

"No," he screamed again, "Oh god."

He leapt away from her and ran out of the room. The hallway elongated and he ran as fast as he could, but could not find the living room. Then he burst through as though breaking through glass.

He screamed. Shadows enfolded the room, the fireplace was black, and cobwebs spun by busy spiders, covered the furniture. Dead and dying flowers lay over the gritty stone floors and among the broken remains of the furniture. Their rotting perfume saturated the air and he gagged. He slammed open the door, and fell on the dead grass in front of the cottage. He vomited until his throat burned.

"Maeve," he croaked as bitter tears burned tracks down his face. "I'm so sorry."

A hand fell on his shoulder and he screamed. Maeve stood over him in her torn dress and leered at him. She pulled him to his feet as though he weighed no more than a child did. She was as white as bone and as cold as the winter night he had tried to escape. Angry black handprints circled her neck and she smiled like an animated corpse.

"You're okay," he said.

"No, Spencer, I'm dead. You killed me. I trusted you and you killed me. How could you do it?"

Her voice rattled out of her throat like wet sludge over rocks in a brook.

"I didn't… I tried to stop him."

"You are him," she insisted. "You killed me with your love. He's still out there."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry."

She pulled him close and held him so tight he couldn't breathe. "It's too late," she whispered and the breath from her was from the depths of the grave. "Now we're both dead."

His eyes flew open and he was screaming, but nothing came out. He tried to move but he couldn't force his limbs to respond. Finally, his throat unlocked, but the only thing to come out was terrified sobs. It was pitch black in his room. He flailed out his arms for the light and nearly knocked his lamp to the floor. His heart finally slowed down when blessed light pushed back the shadows of the night and his dream. "God," he said shakily. "It was just a dream."

However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. It was like too much syrup on pancakes and it cloyed in his throat. Somehow, he'd let his feelings for Maeve get in the way of his good sense. He had missed something and he just knew that she was going to pay. He slipped out of bed and reached for his robe even though it was only five in the morning. Why had he let her talk him into not helping her? He should have gone straight to Hotch and if she was angry with him, then so be it.

He went to the kitchen and made coffee. He'd call her as soon as it was a decent hour and tell her that it was time for them to seek help. He ignored the logical part of his brain that told him he was over reacting to a nightmare, that dream were not literal. He couldn't chance it. He loved her more than his own life, and if something happened to her, he might as well be dead, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n please be aware of certain spoilers for Zugzwang as certain parts of this story from this point on will mirror the episode but I've also added my own twists as well. If you think you might know how this will end, stay tuned. More to come soon._**

She paced back and forth and up and down the small room. Her new place put her at a safe distance from her stalker, or so her parents had finally convinced her. The crazy thing was that the old building comforted her, and gave her the creeps at the same time. There was only one other resident on her floor, some woman she had never seen before two days ago, and that was it.

She passed her beeper again as it lay on the coffee table, looking innocent and completely useless. She glared at it and wondered when Spencer would call her. She looked at her watch and her heart began thumping in her chest. He was late, fifteen minutes late, and that wasn't like him at all. In fact, it was unprecedented.

_Maybe he's finally lost patience with all of your baggage. _

She shook her head and began pacing again. If only she knew where he lived, she would go to him. Her stalker no longer mattered.

_You should have thought about that months ago. He could have helped you and you'd be together right now. _

No, she had to make sure that he was safe. She'd die before she'd let anything happen to him. He had been through enough.

_You're afraid._

No, she wasn't afraid. She wanted to see him more than anything else in the world. She loved him.

_You're afraid. _

No!

_Yes, you are. After all, you are the one that's insisted on this strange phone call arrangement. He's only a man after all, and men don't put up with these kinds of games. Bobby wouldn't have put up with it. _

"This isn't about Bobby," she said a loud. "I don't love him anymore and now I know I never did. I love Spencer."

_Do you? _

Oh, yes, how she loved him, the sound of his voice, his unquestioning acceptance of her intellect, the fact that they loved the same kinds of books and his maddening desire to protect her at the cost of his own safety.

_You don't care about his safety. You just don't want him to know the real you. You never told him you were engaged. Don't you think that's something he should know?_

She dropped down on her couch and put her face in her hands. What if it was all true? What if she was hiding behind a telephone? No, she was the one that said they should meet. He was the one that never even mentioned it. Why?

She got up to pace again and this time, anger fueled her circuits around her new apartment. Was he ashamed of her? Was he afraid she wouldn't be pretty?

She hurried to the mirror on her wall and looked at her face. Her hair was back in a ponytail so she got a good look at what he'd see. She was plain, ordinary, and nothing special to look at. He'd take one look at her and wish they had never met.

Tears began to course down her cheeks and she silently thanked the universe that her beeper didn't sound because she couldn't handle it right now. She turned away from her reflection and jumped in surprise when her newly installed telephone rang. Her heart began to pump under the onslaught of adrenaline. No one had her number yet. She reached out with trembling hands and picked up the receiver with the hope that it was some kind of wrong number.

"H-hello," she stuttered.

"_Hello, my pretty."_

She bit her lip so hard that blood welled into her mouth. Tears dropped onto her hand. How? How could he find her so fast? Anger welled up in her chest and overpowered her desire to slam down the phone. Enough was enough and she was done.

"Leave me alone," she screamed.

"_Oh, I'd rethink your tone, my beautiful Maeve, or your boyfriend might just pay the price." _

Oh god, is that why Spencer hadn't called her? _Oh please, don't hurt him. _

"Please don't hurt him," she begged over snuffling sobs. "I'm sorry."

"_That's better," he hissed in her ear. "However, I'm afraid I've become bored with our little game. It's time to show your special agent boyfriend what happens to those who interfere with us." _

"No," she screamed. "I'll do anything you want."

"_Yes, I know you will."_

The phone went dead in her hand. "No," she screamed again.

She leapt off the sofa and ran for her bedroom closet. She pulled out her coat and scarf. She was out the door of her apartment, down the stairs and through the exit before she realized she had nowhere to go and no one she could turn to for help.

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Kami stood up at her station and reached her arms over her head for a long stretch and yawn. Even though she only had to work one rotating Sunday a month on Quantico's switchboard, she still hated getting up a six to come into the office. The news said it was supposed to snow later on, too. Oh well, at least she would be home before four.

She stood for a minute, and rocked from side to side while she stared out the window at the sunny, bright day that would freeze you solid if you went outside. Snow hung in drifts around the trees and in piles around the parking lot. Some of the trees still had leaves clinging to them like feathers on a bird. In the mid day light, they were different shades of copper, rust and bronze. Everything else in visual range was black, white and shades of grey, except for the cars in the parking lot and the sky that was whiter than blue. She stared out that sky and thought about the fact that she still had six hours left on her shift. Thank god, it was slow on the weekends.

Her phone beeped at her in her headset. She sat down and gave the standard greeting she said fifty times a day.

"Yeah, um, I need to speak to Agent Blake."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but SSA Blake isn't in the office today. May I take a message?"

"No! You have to let me speak to her, it's an emergency."

"Ma'am, I said she isn't in the building today. May I please take your name and number?"

"Do you know her home number?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't give out personal information on agents. If you'll just -"

"You don't understand," the woman shouted. "Spencer's in trouble. I need help."

"Ma'am, please calm down. If you're in trouble you should call the police and -"

"I can't call the police," the woman screamed. "He said he's going to hurt Spencer. I have to help him, please."

Kami tapped some keys on her screen and brought up a list of names and phone numbers. She activated the standard phone-tracing program and waited for the result while she spoke. "Ma'am, I want to help you, but I need some information. What's your name?"

The other end of the line was silent for so long, Kami almost hung up. "Hello, are you still there?"

"My name is Maeve, um Dr. Maeve Donavon."

"You said Spencer, do you mean Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU?"

"Yes, he's in trouble because of me. I mean, there is a man that's been stalking me and he just called me. Spencer never called for our usual Sunday call, and he's never late so I thought something happened, and then the man called me -"

"Slow down," Kami said. "Start from the beginning."

She listened, and made a few notes as the distraught young woman told her tale. If it was all true, then…

"Yes," she said. "I'm listening. I'm going to attempt to contact SSA Blake for you. You will have to hold the line for a couple of minutes. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, but please hurry."

Kami stabbed the hold button and tapped an outside line. She dialed in SSA Blake's personal number and waited impatiently for her to answer the phone.

"Hello," said a somewhat breathless voice.

"SSA Blake, my name is Kami Angstrom. I'm so sorry to bother you at home. I'm an operator at Quantico. I have a woman on the line asking for you. She said her name is Dr. Maeve Donavon. Do you know her?"

"No, but I assume there's something important going on, or you wouldn't have called me."

"Yes ma'am, I'm afraid there might be."

She relayed what she knew of the story as quickly and concisely as she could. "I don't know if there's anything wrong with SSA Dr. Reid, but I wanted to call you -"

"No, you did the right thing. I'll contact SAC Hotchner. Were you able to get a number for this Dr. Donavon?"

"Yes ma'am. She said she's calling from a phone booth and that's what came up on the trace back."

"Yes, that's sounds right. Please text me with the number."

"Yes ma'am."

She disconnected with SSA Blake went back to the other line. "Thank you for waiting patiently. I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I spoke with SSA Blake. She'd like to speak with you as soon as possible. I have your number on my screen. Please wait there. I'll have her call you right back."

"Thank you," the woman sobbed. "I'm so scared."

"It'll be okay," Kami said as calmly as she could. "Just wait right there and try not to worry."

She disconnected the call, sent the text to SSA Blake and pulled off her head set. Her heart was thumping and she was hot. She drew in a few breaths and turned on the little fan that sat on her desk. It was definitely time for a break.

"I'm taking a break," she said to Kathy who sat in the next cubicle.

"Kay, have a good one," said Kathy who was reading a romance novel between calls.

Kami sighed, picked up her purse and headed to the break room. She hoped that nothing bad happened to Dr. Reid. She'd ridden the elevator once with him and one of her fellow operators. She remembered wondering who the gorgeous guy dressed like an escapee from seventies was, and her friend had said, after Dr. Reid had left the elevator car, "That's Dr. Spencer Reid, of the BAU. Isn't he hot?"

She had to agree that he was and had come to realize that most of the single women in Quantico felt the same way, not that he seemed to notice or care. Now she knew why he ignored the rest of them. She sighed, oh well; the good ones were always taken.

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Something prodded the back of his neck, hard. He jerked and screamed at the agony in his skull and his stiff neck. He tried to bring his hands up to his head, but they wouldn't move. He yanked on them, but they were secured. He looked around through eyes that were so blurry; it was like looking through dirty glass. He couldn't think of how this happened. One minute he had been on his way to call Maeve and now this.

"Hello, Dr. Reid. Wake up and smell the coffee," taunted a voice out of his visual range.

"What, where am I?"

"I don't think that's the important thing here."

"Let me go."

The voice laughed. "Oh, _you_ are a feisty one. You'd never know it to look at you. You really are a pathetic excuse for a man. It was so easy getting my hands on you. I really don't know what she sees in you."

"I don't know what you're talking about. She?"

"Now is not the time to play games, Dr. Reid. My patience is at an end."

Reid twisted his head from side to side despite the pain in his neck, but he couldn't see anyone. Something jabbed into the back of his neck, again. "Settle down and listen to me. I've just had a very interesting talk with Maeve."

Reid stiffened and his stomach went hard and cold as his heart began to race in his chest. "Who are you?"

"No, not yet Dr. Reid, we're not done playing, but by the time we are, you'll wish you'd come after me when you still had the chance."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Maeve paced her living area for what seemed like hours before a knock sound at her door. She hurried over and opened it with the security chain in place. A woman stood there with a man and she held up a badge for Maeve to see. "Yes," Maeve said shakily.

"Dr. Donovan, My name is SSA Alex Blake. This is SSA Aaron Hotchner."

He did not smile at her like the woman, but she saw something in his eyes that made her reach up and disengage the lock. "Please come in. Thank you for coming. I was so scared and -"

"Dr. Donovan," Blake interrupted kindly. "May we sit down and talk."

Maeve nodded. She led them to her living room and the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No ma'am," Hotch said. "We'd like to ask you about your relationship with Dr. Spencer Reid. How did you meet?"

She found her mouth turned up in a smile at the memory. "I wrote him a compliment on an article he wrote for the Journal of Behavioral Psychology."

She stood up and went to the counter that separated the living area from the kitchen. She picked up a packet of letters and took them back to the FBI agents. "We corresponded by letters for three months because I was afraid. A man's been stalking me for the last ten months. He's sent me horrible, frightening letters and emails, called me on the phone and followed me wherever I try to hide. That's why Spencer and I never talked to each other from the same phone booth twice. Our precautions didn't work, though; he always managed to find me.

She gestured around the room. "This place is brand new. I've only been here for six days. My parents bought it for me. How did he get my number when I've been less than a week? "

"Dr. Donovan -"

"You can call me Maeve," she said to Hotch.

"Maeve, is there anyone you can think of that might stalk you?"

She turned her eyes and directed her words to Blake. "I've been trying to figure it out for ten months," she cried. "I can't think of anyone."

"Tell us about his voice," Blake said.

"I don't know; he always disguises it. You know, with one of those electronic devices. At first it was just heavy breathing, but in the last few months, he's been talking to me."

"Has he ever mentioned Reid?"

"No, but -"

She looked down at her glass coffee table, because Agent Hotchner's eyes seemed to see everything.

"What?"

"It's just that one night; after Spencer and I talked, I couldn't sleep. You see, I -"

"What is it?" Alex asked calmly.

Maeve felt her face growing hot. "I was waiting for him to call me and -"

Alex reached over and took Maeve's hand. She squeezed it and smiled encouragingly. "What is it?"

Maeve kept her eyes on the gleaming surface of her glass coffee table. "I was afraid that I'd made him angry with me."

"Why?"

Maeve looked up at Hotch instead of Alex. She would brave his all-seeing eyes for this confession, because despite his glower, she had the feeling he'd understand.

"We talked and he wanted to go to you and tell you about the stalker. He wanted to help me and I freaked out. I was afraid that if he told you that the stalker would hurt him."

She pulled her hand away from Alex and put it to her mouth. A tear worked its way out of her right eye and dropped onto her thumb. "I convinced him not to talk to you, and when I said goodbye, I followed it up with "Love you," and hung up before he could respond."

"You thought you scared him away," Hotch said kindly.

His dark eyes, that had seemed so cold, warmed a bit and his mouth tilted up in a little smile, then the warmth was gone and he glowered.

"Yes. I fell asleep waiting for him to call and when the phone rang, it was the stalker."

"You thought it was Reid," Alex said.

"Yes, and I used Spencer's name. It was awful. I thought I managed to convince him that Spencer was someone I'd been corresponding with and that was all, but now I know I just made it worse."

"When, exactly, did the stalking begin?"

"It was before time I first contacted Spencer."

Alex and Hotch exchanged glances. "We need more details about the kind of correspondence you received and about your relationship with Dr Reid."

She shivered as though the winter cold outside penetrated the inside of her bones. "Alright, I'll tell you everything."

"Will you come with us to Quantico?" Hotch asked. "We need the rest of the team on this. I'd prefer not to make you repeat everything twice. "

She nodded and her hands moved to pick up the letters she'd received from Spencer. She also retrieved a heavy manila file folder that contained pictures and other things she'd saved from the last ten months. She looked around and realized she didn't have anything large enough to carry them. Agent Blake held out a hand and Maeve gave her the stack.

"Don't worry; I'll take good care of them. Alex said as her eyes fell on the envelopes addressed in Reid's handwriting. "We'll give them back when we find him alive."

Maeve tried to smiled, to feel confident that they would find him alive, but inside her stomach churned and her confidence flagged. How could she live if they were too late to save him?

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JJ was the first to arrive at the bullpen after Hotch's urgent call. She went to her desk and put down the coffee she'd bought on the way in. One of the cups went on Reid's desk. It was his favorite, just plain old coffee with a little cream and lots of sugar. She shuddered to think of how much sugar he ingested on a typical day with his coffee.

The door to Hotch's office opened at the same time Rossi and Morgan got off the elevator with Garcia. Blake preceded Hotch into the bullpen with an unfamiliar woman, who followed their boss.

She was medium height with long, chestnut brown hair in loose waves pulled back from her face in a ponytail. Her eyes were blue and compelling. She didn't wear any make up and her clothes were very plain. In fact, JJ almost laughed because this woman reminded her of Reid and his odd fashion sense with her slacks, shirt and sweater.

"What's wrong, Hotch," Morgan asked bluntly. "Why the emergency call in?"

"I'd like all of you to meet Dr. Maeve Donavon." He gestured to the team and introduced all of them in turn.

"What's going on, Aaron?" Rossi demanded. "Why is there a civilian in the bullpen on a Sunday afternoon?"

"I brought you all here because there is a good possibility that Reid has been kidnapped."

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Reid struggled against the restraints on his wrists. They cut into his wrists as he tried to twist against their hold.

"Pay attention," the voice said and the pressure at the back of Reid's neck increased.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

Pain exploded in his neck and spiraled up into his head. "I want you to tell why you did it."

"I don't understand."

The pressure increased until he cried out. "You know exactly what I want, Dr. Reid. You are the profiler, are you not? You're the smartest guy in the room, right?"

"I can't help you if you don't -"

"Shut up!"

Reid winced as his captor shouted almost directly in his ear. He yanked hard on his bonds, but the zip ties bit into his wrists and added bright stabbing pain to the thumping agony in his head and neck.

"She doesn't deserve you. You let me terrorize her when you could have stopped it the minute she told you about me. Do you know what that makes you?"

"I didn't want…"

The pressure increased at the back of his neck, again and tears ran out of the corner of his eyes.

"You didn't want to what, Dr. Reid? You didn't want to make her mad at you by going against her wishes."

"No, that's not it."

The pressure on his neck suddenly ended. He hitched in a breath and coughed. His wrists were burning around the zip ties, but he barely felt the pain.

"Tell me, Dr. Reid, what was it about?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Maybe it was the fact that you've never had a serious relationship with a woman in your life, and you didn't want to mess it up."

"That's not what this is about, I thought -"

The pressure returned to his neck and Reid held his breath against the pain.

"Don't lie to me, Dr. Reid. I'm not in the mood."

Reid closed his eyes and tried to hear Maeve's voice in his head. She always had a calming effect on him. He stopped yanking on the zip ties and tried to forget about the pain in his head and neck.

"What's it going to be, Dr. Reid? Will you tell me the truth this time? Why didn't you protect her?"

"Why am I here? Maeve is the object of your fantasies. I'm your rival. She loves me and you should -"

"Don't tell me what to do."

Reid winced against the screaming voice. The pressure moved from his neck to the side of his head.

"If I were you, Dr. Reid, I'd think long and hard about how you answer me because I'm done playing with you."


	6. Chapter 6

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

"Reid's been kidnapped," Garcia squeaked. "Why are we standing around? We have to get out there and find him."

"Settle down, baby girl," Morgan soothed, even though a muscle jumped in his jaw and his hands clenched at his sides.

"We don't know for certain," Hotch said, before any other objections were raised. "Dr. Donovan, why don't you tell the team what you told us."

She looked around at these people. Some of them Reid had mentioned in passing, other's he'd talked about frequently, like Ms. Garcia, Agent Blake and Agent Rossi. She made eye contact with all of them, but they were all strangers so there was no sympathy there except for Agent Blake. They mostly regarded her with degrees of suspicion and curiosity.

"It's difficult to explain." She finally managed to begin. "I met Spencer about ten months ago. I read an article he wrote for the Journal of Behavioral Psychology. I was intrigued, so I sent him a compliment letter. He wrote a thank note, and it just grew from there. We wrote letters for three months because…"

She looked over at Blake - her only lifeline in this awkward meeting - who nodded. "I have a stalker and it wasn't safe for us to meet. He sent me horribly threatening letters, emails and he called me on the phone. Spencer and I set up a system of contacting each other on payphones. We used a different one each time we talked. I want all of you to know that he tried to get me to agree to come to you for help, but I said no."

Tears filled her eyes. "I need your help. He called me this morning and made terrible threats against Spencer. I know you don't know me and you have no reason to trust me or even like me because I didn't let Spencer help me, but I beg you to help him, if not for my sake, then because you're family. He always said you're family."

"You don't have to beg," JJ said. "We love Spence, and I for one, will do everything I can to help both of you."

The others nodded except for Hotch who addressed them sternly. "Unfortunately, working this won't sit well with Strauss or the Director. They'll say we're too close and pull us off in favor of IAB."

"But you can't just let him hurt Spencer. I thought you cared about him," Maeve cried. "You have to help him."

"We will," Rossi said calmly. "We just have to fudge the books a little."

Hotch nearly smiled. "Does anyone want to leave?"

Maeve watched with trembling hands, and a stuttering heart, as one by one they each gave silent consent to breaking the rules.

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"What do we do now?"

Garcia asked the very question on Maeve's mind. The doctor waited for the answer while she studied this woman. Spencer had mentioned her many times. She knew he considered her like a best friend. Penelope Garcia reminded Maeve of a friend she'd met in college. She flinched inwardly at the memory and ordered her mind not to think about Elizabeth. The pain was too much on top of wondering if she'd ever see Spencer again.

"Maeve, we need to know more about you," Hotch said. "It'll help us find the man that's behind this."

She nodded and closed her eyes. "I'm a geneticist at Mendel University, or, I was until ten months ago. I couldn't deal with work and this stalker, so I took a sabbatical."

"What about your colleagues?"

Maeve sighed and almost smiled at Agent Rossi. "You're really reaching if you think any of them had anything to do with this."

"Sometimes professional jealousy can make people do crazy things."

Maeve turned her attention to JJ. "No, they were interested of course, but they're all men and all much older than me. How could it be any of them when their lives were as wrapped up in their projects as mine was?'

"Still, we have rule out any possibility."

Maeve nodded again and returned her eyes to the table. Should she mention Bobby? No, he was a jealous and controlling bastard, but he wouldn't do something like this and…

"What is it?"

She looked up to see Agent Blake watching her very closely. All the agents were as good at reading her as Spencer had been and he hadn't had the advantage of seeing her face. Oh God, if only they could see each other now.

"Maeve?" Agent Hotchner's voice dragged her back to the room. "If you have any idea -"

"I was thinking about Bobby."

"Who's Bobby?"

"My fiancé."

"Your fiancé," Morgan snapped. "Does Reid know about him?"

"Morgan!"

"No, Hotch, she just said that -"

"My ex-fiancé," Maeve shouted them down. "When I realized that the stalker wouldn't go away, I broke it off with him. I told him to move on, find someone else."

"You told him to move on and he just went," JJ asked, skepticism clouding her voice.

"No, he put up quite a fight. He said he'd help me, that we'd get through it together, then a couple of weeks later he just gave up and said goodbye."

Maeve looked a bit shocked to be saying it aloud and realized the implications. "If you think that he -"

"We have to consider everything."

She rounded on Hotch, "Look, he may have been controlling and jealous, but he wouldn't do this."

"Those are just the reasons he would," Alex said.

"I can't believe this," Maeve said. "Do you really think he'd do this, kidnap Spencer because of me?"

"What was your relationship like before the stalking?"

"I told you, we were going to get married."

"But, you didn't fight to keep your relationship together during this terrible time in your life. Why not?"

"I didn't want him to get hurt. Just like, I don't want Spencer to get hurt. Please you have to do something other than sit here and interrogate me."

"We're not interrogating you," Alex said softly. "We need to understand what might have led Bobby to stalking you."

"Alright," Maeve said. "I used the stalker as an excuse to break up with him. He was extremely controlling and jealous. He hated that my mother and I were working on the same project together.

"Is your mother a geneticist?"

Maeve smiled proudly at Alex. "Yes," then her eyes filled with tears. "She's got cancer and we were working on some way to stop it."

"Does she do university work too?"

"No, she's retired. She said it was time to let another Dr. Donovan take over the work."

Garcia handed Maeve a handkerchief embroidered with violets from her pocket.

"Thank you."

"What's his full name?

"Robert Putnam."

Garcia's hands flew over the keys of her laptop. "I've got his address, my lambs."

"Rossi and I will go see him. Blake, you, Morgan and JJ go to Reid's apartment. We need to know if he was taken by force, or tricked out."

When all of Reid's teammates were gone, Maeve was left with Garcia who said, "I've got a few pictures of Reid with our godson, Henry in my office. Do you want to see what he looks like?"

Maeve shook her head. "No."

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Reid eyes flew open again when the pressure return to the back of his neck. He flinched and tried not to moan in pain, but only succeeded in keeping his outburst to a tiny groan.

"Dr. Reid, you and I are going to have another conversation."

Reid didn't know how much time had passed between the time his captor had left the room and now. It felt like an eternity, but in reality, it could've been minutes.

"I'm not telling you anything," Reid said through clenched teeth. "Just kill me."

"Oh, I don't think so. You see, I still don't have a satisfactory answer to my question."

The pressure suddenly vanished and the voice moved to his left again. "You see, I know everything there is to know about you, Dr. Reid. I know that torture and the threat of death don't faze you. How many times have you faced certain death and won?

Reid closed his eyes and waited. If this were to be his last moment on earth, he'd go out imagining Maeve's voice in his head.

"I don't need the answer to know that you'll never break because I hold a gun to your head."

Reid turned his head and saw an ordinary man standing next to him. The man put Reid's revolver down on a stack of boxes and smiled. "I think I'll take a different tact with you."

"If you know me so well," Reid said stiffly, "Why did you threaten me in the first place."

The man shrugged and smiled in a mildly chagrined way. "Old habits die hard, Dr. Reid. I do so enjoy torture and killing. It's what I live for."

"It doesn't matter what you say or do, my answer is still the same. I didn't tell my team the truth because I made a promise to Maeve."

The man grinned and Reid noticed his teeth were yellow with nicotine stains. His smiled reminded Reid of every bully he'd ever encountered on the playground or in the workplace. He forced his body not to shudder in response.

"I should blow your fucking brains out for thinking you could steal her away from me. She is mine, Dr. Reid, no matter what you think."

"I think you're a narcissistic psychopath that isn't capable of love. You're obsessed with her, but you don't love her. You want to possess her."

"I _do_ posses her. Haven't I made you and her dance to my tune? _I'm_ the one with the power."

"No," Reid disagreed and he faced forward toward the blank wall of this empty and filthy room. "You haven't controlled anything. I'm the one that's controlled you. Did it occur to you that I knew if I waited long enough, you'd lose your temper and make your move?"

The man stepped in front of Reid. "What do you mean by that?"

Reid smiled at him. "You think you're in love with Maeve, and that she loves you."

"She does love me. You're just an amusement," the man said and he smiled horribly. "I'll get rid of you just like I got rid of her interfering fiancé."

Reid's heart stumbled in his chest. Ever since the man had put down his gun, Reid felt more in control, but this, this had to be a lie.

"What are you talking about?"

The man threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, that was worth all of this, to see the look on your face. You didn't know she had a fiancé, did you?"

Reid sat stock-still and kept his eyes on a point over the man's shoulder.

The man relaxed his stance and smiled like he was Reid's new best friend. "Tell me Dr. Reid, how do you feel about Maeve, now?"


	7. Chapter 7

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Morgan led them to the stairs going up to Reid's apartment. A tiny woman, with a huge purse over one shoulder and a phone in one hand, skipped down the stairs like a teenager, even though Morgan estimated her age in her mid forties. Her graying hair, in a ponytail bobbed over her shoulder as she passed by them. JJ and Blake had to leap out of her way or risk being run down.

"Busy place," Blake said dryly.

"Yeah, how could someone get in here without being seen on a Sunday morning?"

"Everyone was probably asleep. It's only eleven am."

JJ raised her eyebrows at Blake. "Only eleven a.m."

"The only reason I'm up is because of this. If we don't have a case, I sleep late because Saturday nights I'm always up late talking to my husband on Skype."

"Guys," Morgan said harshly. "Quiet," he ordered as they approached the door to apartment three.

"Reid," he called as he knocked briskly. "It's Morgan, JJ and Blake. Are you there, man?"

They waited, but there was no answer. Morgan knocked again, but no one responded.

"Alright," Morgan said. "Let's go in."

"How can we? It's locked up tight."

"No problem," he reached into his pocket and produced a key. He opened it with his gun out even though there was no sign of forced entry. He looked around and said, "Clear."

They all entered a room with more books and bookcases than Blake had ever seen in one apartment. The one thing she didn't see was any sign of Reid or that anyone else had been in the place.

"Reid, are you in here?"

"He's not here," JJ stated as her eyes took in the curtains at the window, the sofa and Reid's desk. Everything was very neat and she really liked the stained glass near one bookshelf.

She took in the rest of the room, with its dark green walls, leather and wood furniture, and old-fashioned light fixtures.

"Wow, I haven't seen one of these in a long time."

She turned to see Blake near a yellow, rotary dial phone.

"Well, he's not here. His messenger bag is gone and there's no sign of forced entry. He left here of his own free will."

"Or," Blake said, "He was tricked out."

"He would have been on high alert because of Maeve, and he's Reid. He wouldn't fall for the usual tricks."

"That's what worries me," Blake said.

"It is Sunday. According to Maeve, it was their day to talk. If the stalker was watching Reid too, then he could have followed him and grabbed him somewhere."

"In broad daylight, how?"

Morgan rounded on JJ. "I don't know!"

She just stared back at him. "Hey, Morgan, settle down. I'm not saying you have all the answers. I'm just saying it'd be difficult for someone to just grab him like that."

Morgan rubbed a hand over his head and sat on the arm of Reid's leather sofa. He fingered the throw blanket over the back and sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, JJ, I'm just at a loss. We have nothing to go on but the word of a woman we don't know, but whom Reid trusts implicitly. We're dealing with a situation that, frankly, frustrates the hell out of me. Why didn't he come to us? We could have helped them. I would have done anything for him and he knows it. Why didn't he come to us?" He repeated.

"He didn't come to us because he thought he could handle it."

Morgan looked up at Blake in surprise. "What?"

"He didn't want to involve us because he didn't want us to get hurt." JJ interjected, resignedly.

Blake nodded at JJ, "Yes, but there's more to it than that."

She went to the chess set near one window. It was beautiful, an antique for sure and probably worth quite a bit of money. She touched the white queen with one finger. The smooth wood felt cold to the touch and she shivered.

"What do you mean?"

Blake directed her response to Morgan instead of JJ. "He was trying to provoke a confrontation with the un-sub, one that he thought he could control."

"He knew that if Maeve's stalker was a classic erotomanic, and he found out about Spence, he'd see him as a rival."

"Yes and the stalker wouldn't put up with a competitor for Maeve's affections. He thinks she's in love with him. He thinks they have the perfect romance and Reid is a threat to that."

Morgan paced the throw rug on the floor. "He knows better than that," he hissed. "He should have asked for our help."

"There's nothing we can do now, but find him."

He nodded at Blake's comment because she was right. "Let's get out of here and back to Quantico. We need to talk to Hotch and Rossi. Maybe the stalker is this Bobby person."

"I doubt it," JJ said. "That'd be too easy."

Blake was the last to leave after taking one last look around. She knew what it was that bothered her. The apartment looked like it belonged in the nineteenth century. It reminded her of every movie she had ever seen about Sherlock Holmes. She smiled a little because it made perfect sense. Reid was the oldest soul she had ever known. If she believed in reincarnation, she'd swear that his soul had traveled from one life to the next for several millennia. It was in his eyes. He had the body of a young man, but his eyes were ancient in many ways.

"Hey, Blake," Morgan said from the narrow stairway. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm right behind you."

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A woman opened the door when Rossi put his ID up to the peephole. "Yes."

"We're looking for Robert Putnam."

"He's in the back."

Hotch and Rossi entered the room without waiting for an invitation.

"What's this about?"

A man walked into the room from the hallway, "Hey babe, have you seen my blue shirt, I thought I left it -"

He stopped mid sentence and turned to the woman. "What's going on?" Who are these people?"

"The FBI."

"What?"

"Robert Putnam," Hotch said.

"Yes, what do you want?"

"We're investigating the disappearance of a Federal Agent, Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid."

Robert went to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He popped off the top with an opener he pulled from the drainer on the countertop. "I have no idea who that is? Why are you here?"

"Yes, I'd like to know that, too."

Rossi turned to the dark-haired young woman. "Would you please leave us alone?"

"But -"

"Diane, it's okay, just give us a minute."

"Fine," she huffed and slammed out of the apartment.

"Now that you've chased my girlfriend out of here, I'll ask again. What do you want and who is Super-whatever his name?"

"SSA Dr. Spencer Reid," Rossi said impatiently. "Perhaps another name'll help you. Dr. Maeve Donovan."

Putnam flinched and took a long pull from his beer. "We broke up months ago. What's this all about?"

"It seems that Dr. Donovan has a stalker. Were you aware of that?"

He took the beer to the couch and sat down. "Of course I was. It's why we split up. She told me to move on and I did."

"Yes, we can see that."

Putnam bristled. "Hey, I'm not the only one that moved on she -"

He abruptly stopped and began to roll the beer bottle between his hands. He looked up at them after a minute, as they were very quiet.

"She what?"

Putnam glanced over at Hotch. "I just mean that I assume she found someone else. Look, I haven't seen or spoken to her in weeks."

"Why don't you try again?"

He flinched at the cold anger in Hotch's tone and his dark eyes. "We know from your credit card records that you had reservations at the same restaurant as Maeve and Dr. Spencer Reid a few weeks ago. Are you going to tell us that was a coincidence?"

Robert gulped down the last of his beer. "No, I wanted to know if she was okay, so I had a private detective track her down. When he told me she surfaced with reservations at that restaurant, I made my own with a friend, to see her. She never showed up though, just that other guy. I guess she moved on," he said bitterly.

"Did that make you angry enough to confront Dr. Reid?"

Bobby got to his feet. "No, I have no idea where your agent is. I'm going to go get something from that drawer. Don't shoot me."

He went to chest of drawers and withdrew a sheaf of something from its depths. He handed them to the profilers. They were pictures of him and Maeve and a few of just him alone. "I was being stalked too. I got these a few weeks after Maeve told me it was over. It's why I stopped trying to get back together with her. I thought, up until then, that she was exaggerating the threat, but then I realized whoever this crazy bastard is, he's dangerous."

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Maeve sat at Spencer's desk. Ms. Garcia had invited her up to her office, but Maeve had asked to be allowed to sit there. Ms. Garcia tried to talk her out of it, and had even said that it was technically against the rules because there were case files in view, but had relented when Maeve promised not to touch anything.

She looked at a stack of files on Spencer's desk and thought about the case he'd called her about, the one with the guy who'd cut off legs and transplanted them to other people. If that was what he dealt with on a daily basis, and she supposed it was, it was a miracle that he remained so sweet and kind. She thought that she would get jaded and cold with all that exposure to pain and blood.

"Maeve," said a hesitant voice.

She looked up to see Ms. Garcia standing there with a steaming cup in her hand. "Would you like some tea?"

She was going to refuse, but Spencer's friend had been so nice to her. "Thank you."

"You know, Reid never talked about you."

Maeve jolted, but there was no accusation in Ms. Garcia's voice.

As though she heard what Maeve was thinking, Garcia said. "I just mean that he kept you close to his heart, like a precious secret. He has a hard time trusting people."

"I don't know what -"

"He's never cared about anyone the way he does you."

"How can you say that? You've never seen us together or know anything about me."

Garcia didn't flinch at the accusation in Maeve's tone. "I just know that you must be important to him, or he'd never try to fix your problem alone."

"He didn't do anything," Maeve cried, her voice rising in the quiet bullpen. "I begged him not to, and he stayed quiet for me."

"I may not be a profiler like my friends, but I know him well enough to know that he has a plan and you can bet that he's working on some way out as we speak."

Maeve wiped a hand across her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

Garcia smiled and patted Maeve's hand. "Because I know Spencer Reid, and he's not about to give up, not when he has you to fight for. He loves you and you better get used to it."

"I'm not so sure."

Garcia frowned. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I said it to him a few weeks ago. We were talking and after he said "Bye," I said "Bye, love you." and I hung up. I didn't give him a chance to respond. He hasn't said anything about it. I know I scared him off."

Garcia shook her head and grinned. "First, if you had scared him off, he would have found some way to gently brush you off, but he didn't, did he?"

Maeve shook her head. "But -"

"If I know him, he's just waiting for the perfect time. Trust me. He's going to find a way out of this and then you're going to meet face to face and it'll be just like a scene out of a romantic movie."

"Ms Garcia -"

"Call me Garcia, everyone does."

"Alright, Garcia. I just wish I could be as sure as you are."

"Just think about how much you love him and trust in me and the team. We will find him and put the pervert that's stalking you away for good. I promise."

Maeve couldn't do anything but smile. It was no wonder that Spencer thought highly of this woman. She thought that perhaps she and Garcia could be friends one day.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

"Wonder what's going on?"

Hotch flicked his eyes over to Rossi, who stared out the windshield at the scene in front of them in the parking lot of Mendel University. He parked the SUV and climbed out of the truck as a Metro cop stepped up to meet them. "I'm sorry; you'll have to move along."

Rossi and Hotch pulled out their badges and held them up, "SSA Aaron Hotchner and SSA David Rossi, of the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

The cop stared at them out of light blue eyes, the lightest Hotch had ever seen. "I didn't know the feds were called in."

"We weren't," Hotch explained patiently. "We're here on an unrelated matter, to see the Genetics Department and speak to the doctors and other personnel."

The cop's eyes shifted and went very cool. "Then you better have a word with the detectives."

"What's going on?"

The cop ignored Hotch's demand and left them standing there. He went to a man dressed in a shiny brown suit who glanced back at Hotch after a few seconds. He tapped the shoulder of another man in plain clothes with hair the same color as Reid's flyaway locks. In fact, that man was nearly as tall as Reid was, but he was fat, so Hotch ordered his heart to start again. It wasn't as if Reid would just appear out of thin air at their investigation.

He waited patiently as they spoke to each other and eyed them suspiciously for several minutes. Then, the man in the brown suit with a badly receding hairline, started toward them with his partner trailing behind at a leisurely pace.

"I'm Detective Mitchell, and this is my partner Detective Hanson. Officer Ricks said you're feds."

"That's right."

The detective pursed his lips together and narrowed his cinnamon colored eyes. "Who called you in on this?"

"Detective, no one called us in. We're not here to poach your case. We're investigating the disappearance of a Federal Agent and our investigation led us here."

Detective Hanson jabbed a finger at them. "We definitely don't need Federal IAB mucking up the case, so if you don't mind -"

"We're not IAB."

The detective jolted at Hotch's tone, brittle and diamond hard as Arctic ice. He even took a step back, despite the fact that he had at least an inch of the FBI agent and more than sixty pounds.

"The missing agent is a part of my team."

They looked at each other and something unspoken passed between them. They both nodded and Mitchell said, "One of the eggheads in there," he gestured in the general direction of the building, "Is dead. Someone cut his throat and left him in a pool of his own blood on the floor in one of the labs. Another doc found him when he came in this morning. We were just getting everyone together that has anything to do with the school."

"Which one is dead?"

Hanson turned his attention to Rossi. "His name is Dr. Carter Bloom. Can you believe that? Makes you think he's going to burst out into daisies or something."

A tall woman with golden hair pulled back off her face in a low knot at the back of her neck, pushed through the collection of students and staff toward the detectives. She narrowed her eyes at Hotch and Rossi.

"What's going on? Who are you?"

Color rode high on her rounded face and put sparkle in her sea green eyes. A breeze fluttered her dark blue skirt with its matching suit jacket.

Hotch introduced them and she winced. "I'm Dr. Jessica Hughes, Dean of Faculty. Why did you call in the FBI?" This she directed at the detectives. "We don't need -"

"They didn't call us," Hotch interrupted impatiently. "We have a case that brought us here to speak to the members of your Genetics Department."

"Why?"

She reminded him strongly of Strauss, but he reigned in his irritation at the resemblance. "Are you familiar with Dr. Maeve Donovan?"

The woman's eyes softened immediately. "Yes, but she's out on extended leave. I don't see what she has to do with any of this."

"We know about her stalker," Rossi said.

"I see," she said and something shifted in her eyes. "I take it that you're not here because you've found him."

"No."

She nodded. "Why don't we go to my office?"

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"I really don't know what I can tell you."

Dr Hughes offered them coffee in her small office. She pushed a stack of paperwork to one side of her desk and dropped down behind it.

Hotch declined the coffee, but Rossi accepted. "We just need to know what you can tell us about Dr. Donovan and her fellow teammates."

"I don't know how much you know about the workings of a genetics lab."

"Not much, I'm afraid," Hotch admitted.

"All of them are very dedicated to their work. They don't have much time for socializing. In fact, all of the researchers on her team are more interested in working than a social life. Only two of them are married. Dr. Donovan was engaged before her stalker."

"Yes, we were aware of that," Rossi said.

"I met him once, and I admit that I didn't like him at all. He seemed much too demanding of her time. Oh, he was good looking and fairly charming, but there was something I didn't like about him."

"We have reason to believe that he was stalked along with Dr. Donovan."

Her mouth pursed like she'd bitten into a sour lemon. "Are you sure, because I always thought -"

"Yes. We've interviewed him, and we're sure he was a victim as well."

She took a sip of her cooling coffee. "I won't say I'm sorry her stalker caused their break up. She's better off without him."

A knock sounded at her door and a harried looking red haired woman practically ran into the office. "Dr. Hughes, a couple of police detectives are outside insisting on talking to you and -"

She seemed to notice Rossi and Hotch for the first time because she stopped her breathless explanation and blushed beet red. "Oh, I'm so sorry Dr. Hughes, I didn't realize -"

"It's okay Sherrie. These men are FBI agents. What did the detectives say?"

"They said that they needed to talk to you about Harvey."

Dr. Hughes only stared blank eyed at the young woman.

"You know, one of the custodians on the day shift."

Dr. Hughes blinked and then she smiled tightly. "Oh yes, I believe I remember him. What do they want with Harvey?"

"They said that he's the only one they can't account for from, um, from the, oh Dr. Hughes I can't believe that Dr. Bloom is dead. Why would somebody want to hurt him?"

"Sherrie," Dr. Hughes said kindly and Hotch decided that she was less like Strauss than his first impression of her. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"But I should stay and help you -"

"It's okay. I'll handle this."

Dr. Hughes watched the girl leave the room. "I'll see that you get everything we have on Harvey Quim."

"Thank you." Hotch said. "What can you tell me about him?

"I have to be honest with you. She smiled grimly. "I admit that I never notice the janitorial staff. They do their job and we do ours."

"Did you ever witness him interacting with Dr. Donovan or Dr. Bloom?"

"No. He's worked for the university for about a year. He did his job and didn't cause any trouble. He's the last person I'd suspect of something like this."

"What about Dr. Donovan? Did she have a problem with him or any of the custodial staff?" Rossi wanted to know.

"I don't remember Dr. Donovan complaining about him or anyone. She got along with everyone. When she came to me to ask for leave, she told me everything. If she'd suspected Quim, she would have told me. Our conversation was more woman to woman, than boss to employee. I tried to get her to go to the police, but she refused. I admit that I thought one day I'd hear that she was dead."

"She's not dead," Rossi said. "She finally came to us for help when one of our agents disappeared."

"I don't understand."

"They met ten months ago and have been conducting a letter and phone relationship. They've never met face to face because of her stalker."

Dr. Hughes sighed. "I wish that I had called the police. I really care about Dr. Donovan. I just can't believe that it's come to this. She's more than a valued member of my staff, she's a friend. I want her back here, but more than that, I want her alive and happy."

Hotch stood up and shook her hand as she stepped around her desk. "We'll do everything we can to make that happen."

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Reid studied the ordinary man in front of him and tried to think past the fact that surprise and hurt jumbled up everything in his brain. He resisted the urge to drop his eyes in defeat and stare at his shoes. He twisted his wrists against the zip ties and let the pain clear his head.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he said as calmly as he could. "I know that she didn't exist in a vacuum before we met."

The man threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, Dr. Reid, I might not be as smart as the nerds working at the University, but I can tell when someone's jealous."

"Yes, you would know about that. I'm here because Maeve loves me, not you."

The man shoved away from the pile of crates he leaned against, and hurried to Reid. He reached out and slapped Reid so hard his head felt like a bomb went off inside of his skull. He hissed in a breath and forced his mouth into a smile. "I knew you'd resort to physical violence at some point."

"Shut up."

"I don't think so. You met Maeve somewhere, and you thought in your twisted little mind that just seeing her made you her your true love. You thought she -"

"Shut up!" Harvey Quim shouted again. "She and I belong together. I'm going to show her the truth."

He strode over and picked up Reid's revolver from another dusty crate. "I'm going to kill you, Dr. Reid and then, no one will get in my way."


	9. Chapter 9

**_Disclaimer: see my profile _**

"You won't kill me," Reid said confidently, even though the pounding of his heart made it difficult to speak. "You're not through with me yet."

Quim lowered his gun and smiled at Reid, a terrible and predatory smile. "You're right, Dr. Reid. It'll be much more fun with an audience."

He returned Reid's gun to its position on the pile of crates. "I'm tired of waiting for your team to figure out the puzzle."

He sighed and then laughed in a way that erected the hair on the back of Reid's neck. "I guess they really do need their resident genius to keep them from bumping into walls."

He pulled a phone from his pocket and grinned at Reid. "Now, were going to make a phone call together."

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Garcia pushed a button on her phone and pulled off her headset. "That was Morgan. They finished with Harvey Quim's apartment. They didn't find Reid. They're on their way back to Quantico right now."

She didn't tell Maeve about what the team _had _found in Quim's apartment. It would only upset the woman to know that Quim had known about Reid for a long time, that he had pictures of Reid and of Maeve all over his rooms.

"I can't believe he's the stalker. How could I miss something like that? He seems like such a nice man."

"He never asked you out or anything."

"No, he came in, did his job and left. Sometimes he would talk to me."

She suddenly went pink in the cheeks and looked at her cup of tea instead of directly at Garcia.

"What is it?"

"I never liked it when he tried to talk to me. He was nice and everything, but he didn't always get the hint that I was busy. You know when a man talks to you and you don't want to talk to him, there's just something about him."

"What did he say that made you uncomfortable?"

Maeve stared at Garcia's computer screen for a long time. "It wasn't what he said; it's that he never seemed to understand that I was busy and not interested in idle chat. It's my fault," she said suddenly "I did something to make him mad and-"

"No, it's not your fault. Maeve, you couldn't have known -"

"Do you think I should have let Spencer help me? I just wanted to protect him, and now…"

She cleared her throat hard and the shimmering in her eyes cleared. "I should have let him talk to you. It's my fault he's in the hands of Harvey Quim."

"Hey," Garcia reached over and touched her arm. "First of all, none of this is your fault. It's the fault of Harvey Quim. He's the one that's been stalking you. He's the one that kidnapped Reid and he's the one we're going to find and stop. Second, you were only trying to protect Reid. I know how much you love him. I can see it in your face when you say his name. It was your decision."

"What if I made the wrong decision?"

"Don't they say that hindsight is twenty-twenty? You can kick yourself all day and it changes nothing. I believe that everything happens for a reason and there's a reason for this, too."

"I don't know if I believe that," Maeve said.

"Well, I'll believe it for both of us and for Reid."

Maeve couldn't help but smile. It was no wonder that Reid seemed to hold her in such high esteem. At least he had people around him that cared about him.

"I'm scared."

"Me too, but maybe we can think of it like the team would think of it. What do you remember about Harvey Quim? Did he ever say anything to you that you found suspicious?"

Maeve opened her mouth at the same time Garcia's phone rang.

"Speak and be heard," Garcia snapped into the phone.

"Garcia?"

"Reid," she squeaked and Maeve leaped up out of her chair.

"Yes, it's me. Is Maeve there with you?"

"Yeah, she's right next to me."

"I need to talk to her."

"Sweet cheeks, where are you, we -"

"Garcia, put Maeve on the phone," he snapped and she blinked.

"Alright, here she is."

She pulled off her headphones and stabbed a button on her desk set. "He wants to talk to you."

She began to type furiously on her computer as Maeve spoke to Reid.

"Spencer," she said and cleared her throat again. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know."

She winced when she clearly heard the slap of flesh on flesh and Spencer's groan of pain. "Maeve, he wants you to join us, but don't worry about me. It's a trap, stay away Maeve."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said a familiar voice. This time it wasn't masked by electronics. She recognized Quim's voice. "If you want to see Dr. Reid again, you'll do exactly as I say."

"Don't," she heard Reid say from a distance. "It's a trap, Maeve."

Reid screamed in pain, there was the sound of a scuffle, and Quim was back on the phone, speaking in a breathless voice. "I wouldn't listen to him if I was you. Be here in an hour or I will kill him. Look for the gift I left for you."

He hung up and Maeve turned to Garcia. "I have to go. You have to help me."

"It's going to be okay," Garcia said as calmly as she could. "I traced the call to a five block radius in DC. We just have to narrow it down. Is there any place on this map that you recognize?"

She brought up a map on her computer and pointed to it with her pen. Maeve stared at it and her eyes went wide. "Yes, when Bobby and I were engaged, we went looking for a loft we could buy in the city. This was way out of our price range, but the units were so beautiful. I think I raved about it for days… Oh my god, do you think he got the idea from me?"

"Hey," Garcia rubbed her arm. "This guys a psycho. None of this is your fault."

Garcia called Morgan and filled him in. "Yeah," she was saying as Maeve paced. "I found a unit purchased in Robert Putnam's name, but it's the only unit that's sold so far. I think the owners underestimated the housing recovery."

When she hit the button to release the call, Maeve sat down. "I have to go."

"No, the team just got back and they'll figure out what to do. You have to trust them."

Maeve nodded her head, but inside she wondered if she'd ever see Spencer and if their first meeting would also be their last.

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Darkness had fallen like the wings of some enormous bat over the city when they reached the building. Maeve was the first to exit the SUV, but Hotch was right behind her. "I can't let you go up there alone."

"I have to."

"He will kill you."

She flinched at his direct tone, but then squared her shoulders. "It Spencer, dies, then I die too."

"I want Morgan to go in with you, at the very least."

"No, I'll go alone."

"I can't let you."

"Agent Hotchner, we're wasting time." She glanced around and saw a box sitting on the steps leading into the unlit building. "That must be the gift."

"Maeve, wait," Hotch began, but she ignored him and picked it up.

She opened it and pulled out a long piece of cloth.

"Is that a blindfold?"

"Yes," she said shakily.

"I don't think -" Hotch began again.

"I'm going in."

She drew in a breath and left them standing there. It was nearly perfectly black when the door closed behind her. The street lamps glowing through the glass and ironwork over the top of the door provided very little light.

A stronger, brighter light suddenly shined into her eyes from up the stairs and a voice said, "Put on the blindfold."

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Reid watched her walk into view with Harvey Quim pointing a gun at her back. His captor led her to another chair and made her sit down facing toward Spencer.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi."

"Shut up, both of you."

"Harvey," Maeve said. "Please let me go. I promise I'll do anything you want."

"Maeve," Spencer began.

Quim backhanded him in the face. "I told you to shut up."

"I don't love him," Maeve said. "I realized that you did all of this for me. He's never done anything like this, so how can I love him."

"You mean that," Quim said with very suspicious eyes.

"Of course I mean it. I'm sorry I couldn't see it before, but you're so much better for me than Spencer. Why don't you take this blind fold off and you'll see I'm right?"

He pulled off the blindfold and Maeve drank in the sight of Spencer sitting across from her. He was battered, but he was beautiful, like an angel. She never imagined he'd look like this. She swallowed hard and forced her eyes up to Quim.

"Please let me go so I can show you how much I love you."

"Tell him again," Quim said.

"What?"

"Tell him you don't love him to his face."

She faced Reid and said. "I don't love you. I'm sorry."

"I understand," he said and his eyes told her that he did understand.

"I guess we don't need him anymore."

"Wait," Maeve said and he stopped in the act of putting Reid's gun to his head. "Leave him here. Let him live knowing he's irrelevant to us."

Quim threw back his head and laughed. "Yes, I think you're right. He cut the bounds on one of Reid's hands and then came back to Maeve. He leaned down and kissed her. She tried to force herself to kiss back and not to flinch, but when he forced his tongue into her mouth, she gagged and pulled away.

"Liar," he cried and hurried back to Spencer. "You fucking bitch liar."

"No," she shouted as Quim began to pull the trigger. A shot rang out and all was still as it echoed away into the night.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/N here is the last chapter. Thank you all for your kind support, and as always a huge shout out to my fabulous beta, REIDFANATIC._**

"Shots fired," Hotch shouted and sprinted for the door.

As fast as he reacted, Morgan was faster and beat him to the door. He sprinted up the stairs, his gun and flashlight in his hands. The others followed him, but he ignored them and the rules of clearing a crime scene. His heart stuttered in his chest. He concentrated on the pounding of his shoes on the concrete steps and the smell of dust in the stairwell. He should be listening for another shot, but he couldn't accept the fact that the sound of the shot meant that Reid was hurt or dead.

He burst through the door to the loft and stopped in his tracks. Hotch nearly ran into him, but Morgan couldn't move. He couldn't believe the sight that confronted his eyes. He lowered his gun and flicked his eyes over to Hotch.

The rest of the team entered the room and he saw identical expressions of shock on their faces. JJ was the one to recover first. She hurried to the body lying on the floor in a spreading pool of crimson blood. It appeared that the back of his head was blown out. She almost gagged at the smell of new death that hung like a miasmic soup over the room.

She turned back to Morgan who was smiling and she tried to smile back but didn't quite make. "He's gone."

"They're okay," Alex added with obvious relief.

Rossi and Hotch stood stone still. Rossi grinned, while Hotch only stared at Dr. Donovan and Reid with his usual glower. Morgan thought he saw a glimmer of a tiny smile around his boss's mouth as he took in the sight.

"I can see that," Morgan replied, and despite the fact that his heart still pounded in his chest, he nearly laughed.

Reid and Dr. Donovan were locked in an embrace and he supposed that neither of them knew anyone else existed in the universe.

"Hey," he called. "Wake up, pretty boy…"

Reid pulled away from Maeve, and flushed bright red to see all of them standing there. Then he looked over at Quim and his face went bone white. "What happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

Reid stood up after Morgan cut the zip tie from his right wrist. He nearly fell again, but Maeve grabbed him around the waist before Morgan could move. Morgan winked at her and she flushed.

"He was going to kill Spencer," Maeve said and tears spilled over to her cheeks. "There was a shot and I thought Spencer was dead and then Quim just fell over."

"Look at this," JJ said.

She stood near a broken window. "It looks like the shot came through the window and took him out from the back."

"But, how," Alex wondered. "We didn't call in SWAT."

Morgan pulled his phone out of his pocket. He hit a speed dial and waited impatiently.

"Baby girl, no, they're both okay. No…No, will you stop for a minute. I'll fill you in on everything… Did you call in SWAT? No, okay, no, it's just that Quim is dead and Reid was tied up so… No, we don't know what happened. Alright, I'll let you talk to him."

He handed his phone to Reid and went over to Hotch and Rossi as Alex and JJ joined them. "What the hell is going on, Hotch?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, but someone was on the building across the way and took out Quim with one shot. We need to know what happened. Morgan, I want you and JJ to work with CSI in that building and here. Tear them apart and find out what just happened here. I'm going to call the Director."

Reid handed his phone back to Morgan. "Garcia's freaking out a little. You better talk to her."

Morgan rolled his eyes and hurried off to one corner of the room.

"Spencer, what's going on," Maeve asked.

"I don't know, but I don't care. I want to get you out of here."

"I agree," Hotch said. "You're both going to get medical attention."

"I don't need it," Reid protested. "This is nothing, Hotch."

He touched the side of his face where Quim had hit him several times. It stung and his lower lip was split, but he felt good despite the pain. He rubbed at his wrists and the back of his neck ached, but he barely felt it because Maeve was there and finally they were together.

"Reid, you need -"

"Please just let me take Maeve out of here. I promise I'll be in extra early tomorrow and make my report."

"Alright," Hotch put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning."

Alex watched the couple leave the room. "I don't like this, Hotch."

"Neither do I," Hotch agreed. "I want to know what happened, who took that shot and why."

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Reid opened the door to his apartment and flipped on the light switch. Maeve looked around and chuckled. "Well, I can see why you suggested we use names from Sherlock Holmes as code."

Reid looked around and back at her with a very confused expression. "What do you mean?"

"This is how I imagine Holmes's study to look."

She gestured around the room. She went to the stained glass windowpane and touched it. "It's so beautiful in here. You have great taste. I love the green on the walls."

He went pink in the cheeks. "Thanks, um, I'm glad you like it."

She put her arms around him and hugged him close. "Thank you for letting me stay with you. I couldn't go back to my place."

"It's okay. As a matter of fact, I never want to let you out of my sight again."

She smiled a little. "I don't want to let _you_ out of my sight again. I can't believe it's over."

He frowned and went to his chess set near one window. He picked up a pawn and ran his fingers over its carved surfaces.

"What's wrong?"

"I wish I knew what happened up there."

He turned to her and hugged her hard. "I'm so happy that you're here and alive. If you'd died up there, I'd -"

She pulled back and kissed him gently, so softly that it was like the kiss of spring wind on his face. "I'm here and I'm okay, oh, so much more than okay."

"I just wish I knew who it was that killed Quim."

"Your team will figure it out."

He smiled at her. "You sound so confident."

"I am, and I'm kicking myself for not letting you go to them sooner."

"It's okay," he shushed her. "I think I understand why Garcia thinks everything happens for a reason."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. I don't think we were ready for each other and now we are."

"You sound pretty confident."

He kissed her and this time the kiss was hot and demanding. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and she opened for him. He pulled away from her when he heard himself groan aloud. He fought against the pull of her that curled in his belly.

"What's wrong, Spencer?"

Her eyes were bright and she smelled so good, like lilacs in springtime. His body wanted her back in his arms but his brain overrode the desire to pull off her clothes and have her on the floor.

"Um, I should get the couch made up. You can sleep in my room."

"Spencer…"

"I, um, I don't think I'm ready for…"

"We've been talking to each other for the last ten months. Don't you think we've waited long enough?"

He thought that he shouldn't look in her eyes because his brain got fuzzy and he couldn't think logically. "I love you," he said abruptly.

"I love you, too."

"I just don't know what to do."

She nodded. "Why don't we sit down and have a game of chess."

He blinked at her. "You suddenly want to play chess."

"Yes, it'll give you a chance to relax and we can talk a little."

"Alright."

He moved a stack of books from one chair and held it out for her. "Oh, you're so gallant."

"My mother taught me to be a gentleman."

"Did she, I'll have to find a way to thank her."

He went pink and sat across from her. "What side do you want?"

"I'll take white."

He nodded, and then looked up as her hand reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, what kind of prize do I get when I beat you?"

He grinned, "What makes you think you're going to win?"

"Oh, very confident are we," she said, with dancing eyes. "Why don't we play for position?"

"What?"

"I love it when you squeak. You know… position."

He swallowed hard and said squeakily. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, Spencer Reid, so get ready to be on the bottom."

He sat back and pulled on his tie a little. "I think you're overconfident, so you better guard your Queen because I intend to win."

CMCMCMCM

He slammed the door to his underground workshop and began to pace the small room. His angry strides took him past the photographs on the wall of the mighty BAU and Maeve Donovan.

Damn it!

He shouldn't have taken on a fucking partner. Quim was supposed to keep Dr. Reid distracted. Then that idiot decided on his own to up the game. Well, he should have known that a psychopath like Harvey Quim couldn't be trusted. He'd been so surprised to see his so-called partner watching Dr Reid. He hadn't believed that Harvey would take matters in his own hands, walk up to Dr. Reid in broad daylight and stick a gun in his ribs while the good doctor was on his way to his Sunday call. It was a damn good thing that no one noticed the gun or the look of surprise on Dr. Reid's face as Quim shoved him into the back of his car. He should have reacted faster and killed them both right then and there. Still, it didn't do to over react.

He'd believed Quim when he'd said that buying that loft in Robert Putnam's name was a good idea for the climax of their plans. Now he'd have to abandon it and go to plan B.

It was fate, it had to be, that he'd had just enough time to get his rifle and take a position on the building adjacent to that loft. Oh, the temptation to let Quim take out the bane of his existence was so tempting, but then he'd lose the opportunity to kill Dr. Reid. He didn't want that. No, he realized that it was better to let the lovely Dr. Donovan distract Dr. Reid from figuring out the identity of the Replicator.

He stopped pacing and went to his desk. He had the file of the case he'd duplicate next and then it would be time to step up the game. No matter what happened, the mighty BAU would fall.

**_THE END_**


End file.
